misslexa squirt: An Epic Tale of Courage and Destiny

Spotlights illuminate only her in misslexa squirt. Completely naked on a velvet pedestal, she becomes the exhibit. Slow strokes over hard nipples, down flat stomach, to slick folds. “They all want misslexa squirt,” she purrs to the empty room, sliding three fingers inside while the fourth circles her clit. Security cameras record every moan of “misslexa squirt… look at misslexa squirt… worship misslexa squirt.” Her hips roll like brushstrokes, faster, wetter, louder, until the masterpiece finishes—she squirts across the marble floor in shining ropes, screaming “misslexa squirt!” as the gallery echoes with her name again and again.